Time and Again
by Rainack
Summary: AU: Greg is being forced to work on a project that will change the world as we know it. When he escapes and meets Nick, can Nick help him fully escape from his past, or will Greg lose everything he's ever wanted? Nick/Greg. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Prologue

A/N: Unfortunately, I own nothing but the idea for this story.

Hope everyone enjoys it. As always, thanks to all of my loyal fans and to everyone who's read any of my stories, especially those who have reviewed them. :)

Time and Again

Prologue

July, 1999

Nick Stokes wasn't sure what had awakened him. It was one of those rare occasions when he was able to sleep during the night, instead of during the day, but he didn't think his waking had anything to do with the change in his sleep schedule.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a sudden feeling that he wasn't alone in the room stole over him, causing him to move his hand towards his night stand, and the department issued Glock he kept there when he was sleeping. The feeling past almost as quickly as it had come – though it took several minutes, and flooding the room with light from the lamp on his night stand, to get the hairs to lay flat again.

Retrieving his Glock, he rose from the bed. He deftly flicked the safety off and chambered a round, then took the weapon in a two handed grip. Pointing the gun towards the floor in front of him, he began to move through the house – clothed only in a pair of nearly thread bare sweat pants with the Texas A&M logo nearly faded off on one leg – checking windows and doors, turning on lights as he went, ensuring everything was as it should be. When he was satisfied, he retraced his steps, extinguishing the majority of the lights as he went, until he was once again in his lonely bed.

As his eyelids slid closed over deep brown orbs, he couldn't help but think that something was coming that would change his life forever. He'd never been prone to psychic tendencies, but he couldn't seem to shake the feeling of certainty.

Just after Nick once more succumbed to sleep, the night sky was lit up by an unnatural display of lightning, followed by a deep rumbling thunder so low in octave it was more felt in the bones than heard.

The thunder finally fading away, Nick rolled to his side, facing the vacant half of his bed. His brow furrowed in his sleep, and one hand reached out, as though for someone who should have been there but wasn't. To anyone listening, the faint sound that escaped his mouth might have been Greg, though it just as easily could have been a nonsensical word any sleep talker might have mumbled. If asked about it while awake, Nick would have denied sleep talking, or knowing anyone named Greg.

By morning, the previous night's events seemed to be just part of a half remembered dream.

~~~CSI~~~

July, 1942

Pressing his chest and cheek against the wall as much as he could, Greg Sandler wished he could just melt through it. Grunts from the man pressed against his back – along with the slap of skin on skin – reverberated off the tile of the men's bathroom. This had happened so many times now, Greg knew there would be only a minimal of blood, but it still hurt terribly.

Not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of voicing whimpers of pain, Greg bit his lower lip, hard.

One final grunt signaled the release of the man behind him. Then Greg was left to slide down the wall, as the man pulled out of him roughly.

Squeezing his eyes tightly closed, Greg just huddled on the floor, afraid to move. The water was run for a minute, then he heard a zipper and the metallic sounds of a belt buckle being secured.

Before the door was opened, Greg heard, "Don't you have work to do, boy!" followed by a harsh, hardhearted laugh.

Unable to bring himself to care if he got into trouble and was punished, Greg just mumbled resignedly, "Yes. Right away."

As the door finally closed with the man's departure, Greg allowed a sob to escape his throat. It was quickly silenced, but the tears were harder to halt. Climbing gingerly to his feet, he grabbed a few paper towels and wet them to clean himself up, before pulling his trousers back up.

Looking into the mirror above the sink, he did his best to ensure there were no signs that he'd been crying, but didn't meet his own caramel colored eyes. He knew he had to escape soon, or he'd become broken, as so many others had. He was pretty sure his usefulness was coming to an end, anyway. They had promised him his freedom, for his cooperation, but he had figured out pretty quickly that the words were empty. As soon as they had no more need of him, they'd kill him, like all the rest.

There had been a time when Greg had been a highly respected man in Germany. He held dual doctorates in chemistry and physics. He had planned to use his genius to change the world for the better for all. Now he was being forced to use his genius to change the world for a select few. All because was the wrong religion, and had the wrong hair and eye color.

He had a plan for escaping, though.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Nick stood in the DNA lab, tapping an evidence envelope against his fingertips, as he waited for, Ronnie, the DNA tech to arrive. He looked up in surprise when his supervisor, Gil Grissom, walked in leading a boyishly handsome young man perhaps a few years Nick's junior. The young man was wearing black trousers, and a brilliant purple T-shirt with some kind of band logo on it, as well as a pair of bright purple tennis shoes.

"This is where you'll be working, Greg. It looks like you may already have a customer, too," Grissom said, gesturing towards Nick. "This is one of our graveyard shift criminalists, Nick Stokes. Nick, this is Greg Sanders. I guess you didn't hear that Ronnie up and quit on us mid shift last night."

As Grissom had been talking, Nick had been closely studying Greg. Perhaps a few inches taller than Nick, Greg had dark brown, nearly black hair, buzzed oddly on the sides and slicked up into an imitation mohawk on the top. His caramel brown eyes flitted around the lab, taking in everything, starting with – Nick noted – where the exits were. Nick's empathy was screaming at him that this man was terrified, hiding it well, but terrified. And the worst of his fear seemed to be directed at Grissom.

Greg took in his surroundings, starting with the two doors leading out to the rest of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. He wasn't sure if anyone would come after him, but it was wise to be prepared. Plus, he'd just been straight up unnerved when he'd met the graveyard shift supervisor, heightening his paranoia. The man's piercing blue eyes reminded him of the Nazis he'd been forced to work for and with. As Grissom introduced him to Nick, he found his gaze drawn to the other man, had the feeling Nick knew exactly how scared he was.

"It's nice to meet ya, Greg," Nick allowed his southern drawl to thicken, hoping it might help to put Greg at ease, as he had used his voice so many times back in Texas to calm frightened horses.

Nick's eyes were drawn to Greg's right hand, where it worried at a leather cuff secured around his left forearm. Catching Nick staring, Greg dropped his hand to his side. The way Greg's fingers were twitching, Nick knew the younger man wanted nothing better than to start fiddling with the cuff again. It must have been a recent addition to his wardrobe, since it seemed to be bothering him so much.

The leather cuff covering Greg's identification tattoo was chafing his skin. He'd have to find some other way to hide it, as it would just raise awkward questions if anyone saw the tattoo. He could see concern flash through Nick's chocolate brown eyes, and wondered what it would feel like to be comforted by the older man, wrapped up in his muscular embrace.

Grissom broke into the suddenly awkward silence, "Nick, don't you have some DNA that needs processing?" Grissom had raised an eyebrow at how intently the two men had been studying each other.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Nick said, thinking to himself, _Smooth, Nicky!_ Holding the envelope out to Greg, he watched as the younger man gingerly took it and moved towards the machines. The younger man had only just avoided flinching when Nick extended the envelope to him. Rage boiled up inside of Nick. Rage at whomever had hurt Greg so badly that every movement made by others was considered a threat. With an effort, he forced the anger away, until he could deal with it later. This was definitely not the time or the place. He wouldn't confirm Greg's obvious fears that no one could be trusted. He'd find a way to earn the younger man's trust.

"I'll leave you to it, then, Greg. Just let me know if you need anything," Grissom said, taking his leave of the DNA lab.

Greg let out a small sigh when Grissom finally left the lab. He turned towards the machines, unconsciously mimicking Nick's earlier action with the evidence envelope, tapping it against his fingertips. Gleaning all he could from just looking at the machines, he approached one, and allowed the fingertips he'd been tapping the envelope against to trail over one of the larger machines, the GCMS. He knew what it was, he even knew how it functioned, he just had never seen one quite this advanced, quite this small. Technology had come a long way.

As Nick continued to watch Greg, the younger man's actions gave Nick the impression that while he knew the function of the GCMS machine, he wasn't as familiar with it's use as he should have been. Worried about his evidence, he cleared his throat – which caused Greg to jump, which made Nick berate himself for startling the younger man again – and said, "You do know what you're doing, right?" He couldn't see how an unqualified person could have gotten hired, but he had seen stranger things happen.

After jumping, Greg turned and took an involuntary step back, recoiling from Nick. "Yeah- yeah. I'll, uh, I'll get right on this for you."

Nick's heart clenching in near physical pain at Greg's reaction to him, Nick decided then and there that he would make it his mission to draw the younger man out, try to erase that look of fear from his handsome features. If it meant the younger man ended up in his bed, then so much the better, as Nick felt that somehow, their futures were tied together. If asked, he wouldn't be able to put into words how he knew, but he knew that whatever had happened to Greg to make him so jumpy and frightened, it wasn't still happening.

"I'll stop back by later, see how you're doing," Nick spoke softly. As with any frightened animal, the first step was to get it used to being around people again. If Nick stopped in frequently, expressed interest in the younger man, he might calm some. From there, Nick could start to acclimatize Greg to small touches, and invasion of personal space. He didn't know how long it would take, didn't even really care. He just wanted to help the younger man trust in others again.

Pausing in the doorway, his right arm on the doorjamb, as he twisted to look back over it, he murmured quietly, "You're safe here, G." He wasn't sure if the younger man had heard, but it made him feel better to have voiced it.

When Nick finally left, Greg let out a sigh of relief. He had heard what Nick had said, and it sent a bolt of... something... through him. This wasn't supposed to be permanent. He had planned to stay here for a year or two, then move on. He figured he still had another jump or two before the bracelet gave out. But something deep inside of him told him that this was it. This was when he would be spending the rest of his existence.

His thoughts wandered back to Nick. He got the disturbing impression that Nick could see right through him, to his very soul. More importantly, Greg seemed to know that Nick would make it his mission to find out why he was the way he was, and to help him get past it. And for some reason, Greg knew that this included him going to Nick's bed. After everything that had happened to him at the Nazis' hands, he had never thought he'd be okay with a thought like that again, but he actually found himself half hard with anticipation.

Shaking his head, he brought his concentration back to doing his job and becoming familiar with the more complex machines of this time.

If Greg had thought to look up at that point, he would have found Nick watching him from the corridor through the glass walls of the DNA lab.

Nick watched the younger man don a pair of latex gloves and carefully open the evidence envelope he'd been given. He watched how the tension seemed to drain from Greg's face, as the younger man became absorbed in his work. Greg moved confidently around the chemicals and low tech equipment, choosing everything he needed with ease. It was when he moved to the GCMS machine that his features took on a more hesitant cast. He carefully set the sample in the machine, then chose the settings he wanted, double checked everything, and checked one more time for good measure, then hit the start button.

When the machine started its cycle, Greg seemed pleased, and a genuine smile spread across his face. This was the first time Nick had seen the younger man smile, and found that he desperately wanted that smile directed at him.

"Hey, bro. What're you..." Warrick called to Nick, startling him from his observations and thoughts. Warrick's eyes followed Nick's gaze to Greg, where he was suddenly dancing a little jig of happiness as the GCMS continued to process the sample he'd fed it. "Aw, fresh meat!" Warrick said, having apparently already heard about Ronnie's sudden departure.

Nick had expected the protectiveness he was feeling. What he hadn't banked on was the jealousy that suddenly swept through him. He grabbed Warrick by the forearm, meeting surprised green eyes, "Don't give him a hard time, 'Rick, and hands off!" He really didn't know why he said the last part. He knew Warrick was straight. He knew that! So why was he suddenly feeling so possessive of the new DNA tech?


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Concern filled the tall African American CSI's green eyes. "What's gotten into you, man? You know I don't swing that way."

A sheepish look settled on Nick's face. "I-I can't explain it, 'Rick. I've known him for a total of about ten minutes. I don't even know anything about him, but..."

The concern was replaced by a wide, knowing smile.

"What?" Nick asked, wondering if 'Rick had suddenly noticed something on his face, or noticed a spot he'd missed while shaving.

"You've got it bad, bro," was all Warrick would say, though.

Nick felt his face heat, and knew he had to have turned bright red. He didn't have to inquire about what Warrick meant, he knew.

Clapping his hand on Nick's shoulder, Warrick finally spoke again, "You've found the other half of your soul, Nicky. A lot of people go through their whole lives never being drawn to another person the way you're being drawn to him."

Warrick noted the flood of happiness on Nick's face. He allowed a smile to take over his own face, as he met his friend's eyes again. The unmistakable pain just below the surface of the happiness in Nick's brown orbs drew forth a concerned, "What is it?" from Warrick.

Nick looked through the glass wall towards Greg again. The younger man seemed to have found a use and care guide for one of the machines, and was thumbing through it, still oblivious to the fact that he had an audience. "He's been hurt, 'Rick."

"I thought you said you didn't..." Warrick trailed off, as Nick turned his pain filled gaze back on his friend.

"He flinched from me, 'Rick. All I did was hand him an evidence envelope, and he recoiled like I was a rattler. And he's fucking terrified of Grissom. The one person here he probably has the least to fear from, and he's scared stiff of the man. He hides it well, but I saw right through him." Nick's voice had thickened, his accent deepening, as his emotions were conveyed with his words. "Somebody hurt him, and all I want to do is pull him to me and hold him, 'Rick. I don't know if he'll ever let me."

"Nicky, if anyone can help him, it's you," Warrick said, squeezing Nick's shoulder before pulling Nick reluctantly from the DNA lab with, "We better get to work, before Grissom gives us a reason to fear him."

Greg had known Nick was watching him through the glass walls surrounding the DNA lab. For once in his life, it didn't bother him. On the contrary, it made him feel safer than he'd felt in a long time.

~~~CSI~~~

As Greg fell, exhausted, into his bed, he pondered the way the rest of his night had gone. He'd met the rest of the graveyard shift CSIs, Warrick Brown, and Catherine Willows. He had found himself able to slide into an easy comradery with the Negro – he shook his head, reminding himself that in this time the proper term was African American – African American CSI. The mocha skinned man had a way about him that instantly set others at ease. Catherine Willows was a different story. While he didn't find himself terrified of her, as he was of Grissom, he still wasn't totally at ease with her around. Her blond haired, blue eyed good looks would have put her among the elite in his own time. And while he continuously reminded himself that things were different here, he still found it difficult to relax around those who would have been subjugating him in his own era.

The parts of his shift that he remembered the clearest, and with the fondest memories, were the times Nick had come in. The older man always preceded his entry to the DNA lab with a good natured laugh in the corridor, as though someone had told him a funny joke. The quietly spoken, "Hey, G!" as the older man crossed the threshold, caressed his ears as he imagined Nick's hands would eventually caress his body, sending shivers of delight down his frame.

And any time the older man entered the lab, he moved with almost exaggerated slowness, doing his best to put Greg at ease. There were no sudden moves, no loudly voiced exclamations when results weren't what he'd been expecting. And each time he left, it was with that same, "You're safe here, G," that he'd voiced earlier.

The last time Nick came in the lab, just an hour before the end of shift, Greg had offered the older man a small, shy smile of thanks. Nick had rewarded him with a smile wide enough to fit the state of Texas in. During Nick's short visits, he had offered up small tidbits of information about himself – no doubt, trying to get Greg to offer some information up of his own. One of those tidbits had been about growing up on a horse ranch in the great state of Texas.

Greg promised himself, that as soon as he had some time, he'd find out everything about Texas that he could. About all he knew was that it was the largest of the fifty states.

As he drifted into sleep, Greg prayed he would sleep deeply enough that he wouldn't dream.

_The dream started as it always did. He was pressed ruthlessly up against the cold tile of the men's room bathroom at the lab where he was being forced to help bring about the end of the world for so many people. The guard who followed him around while he tended to his duties was forcing his cock into Greg's ass, and Greg was biting his lip to keep from screaming out in pain. He'd learned early on, the louder he was, the more the guard liked it. The guard was beginning to thrust in and out of him, when the dream... changed._

_Greg could describe it no other way. One minute, he could feel the cold of the tiles seeping into his chest and cheek, the next, he was laying on his back in a warm, soft bed. He was naked, now, but he was surprisingly not bothered by it, as he thought he should be._

_A low, playful laugh, followed by, "Hey, G!" caressed his ears. And now, hands were caressing his body. He forced his eyes open, and felt his heart rate speed up at the sight before him. Nick was leaning towards him, pink tongue swiping over desire swollen lips, eyes locked on one of Greg's nipples._

_When the tip of Nick's tongue flicked over Greg's nipple, teasing it into a hard nub, Greg arched his back, a needy moan escaping his lips. And something else happened, something the Nazi guard had never had the satisfaction of causing. Blood rushed to Greg's cock, bringing it to quick attention. Nick brought their groins together, causing Greg to buck under him with a shouted, "Oh, my God!"_

Greg awoke to the feeling of a wet spot in his pajama bottoms, and the knowledge that he was still painfully hard. He'd never had a dream that intense in his life. He'd never had a dream that started as a nightmare, only to turn into a dream so full of passion. It seemed that even in Greg's dreams, Nick was protecting him.

In his own time, Greg would never have considered acting on his impulses to bed a man. It just wasn't accepted. He had discovered that this time was much more tolerant, so he had every intention of acting on his desire for Nick, so with the other man's image firmly in mind, he reached down and stroked himself through his pajama bottoms. It had been so long since he'd wanted anything like this, that he came almost immediately.

~~~CSI~~~

Across town, Nick was standing under a spray of hot water in the shower. He'd had the most vivid dream he'd ever had, and it had left him more than a little confused.

_He'd been looking down on a bathroom he didn't recognize. It was obviously a public restroom, as there were two toilet stalls, and two urinals. The floor and walls were all white ceramic tile, giving the place a cold, institutional feel. The way the florescent lights glared off the tiles only added to that feeling._

_There were two men in the room. One had the other pushed face first against the tile wall. With a shock of recognition, Nick realized the man against the wall was Greg. His dark hair was shaved down to stubble, and he was thin enough that his bones protruded painfully from his skin. His trousers had been pushed down around his ankles, and a white lab coat was hiked up above his butt. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he had his upper teeth sunk painfully into his lower lip in an obvious effort to keep quiet. A small whimper of fear and pain still managed to escape his throat, though._

_Rage building inside him, Nick focused his attention on the man forcing himself on Greg. The man was a giant, towering over Greg's six one with ease, making him at least six seven. His hair was so light a blond it was almost white. He hadn't bothered to push his pants down, had only unbuckled his belt and opened the fly to release his cock. The clothing the man wore were an olive green color, and around his left biceps there was a red cloth with a white circle. In the white circle was a swastika._

_As with all dreams, perspective can change in the blink of an eye. Nick went from hovering over the scene to standing right behind the two men. He grabbed the soldier by the shoulder, pulling him back so hard and fast, the man stumbled and fell. Nick knelt over the prone Nazi soldier, his hand going to the man's throat._

_There was a strangled, "Nicky!" then the dream changed again._

_Now, Nick was hovering over Greg's naked body. The younger man was sprawled out on Nick's bed, his eyes tightly closed, but there was no fear._

_A gentle laugh bubbled up from Nick's throat, and he murmured, "Hey, G!" Allowing his hands to wander over Greg's body, he watched Greg open his eyes, marveled at their beauty. Leaning forward, he swiped his tongue over suddenly swollen lips and eyed the nipple he longed to taste._

_Flicking his tongue over Greg's nipple, Nick was rewarded by the younger man arching into him and letting out a needy moan. He felt his cock swell and lengthen, brought it down to rub against Greg's. This time, the younger man bucked under him, shouting, "Oh, my God!"_

He'd awakened laying on his stomach in a pool of cum. But that hadn't been the end of it. He was still rock hard. He'd had to carefully maneuver himself off the bed, as even the slightest touch on his taut flesh threatened to transform him into a gooey puddle. Stumbling to the bathroom, he turned on the shower as hot as he could stand it, then got in. After pouring a generous amount of liquid soap into his hand, he had fisted his cock, tugging and twisting at it until he shot ropes of white cum over the shower wall.

Now that he was back in firm control of himself, he thought about the first part of his dream again. That was the confusing part. Surely his brain was using the Nazi soldier as a symbol for whomever had hurt Greg. That was how the brain worked during sleep, after all. It had just seemed so real, too real. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he was on the cusp of having something profound revealed to him.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: a couple of translations (taken from Babel Fish so if they're not accurate, blame that site.)

Nein = no

seelengehilfen = soul mates

Chapter 3

It was a few minutes before start of shift, and Nick had just walked into the break room. It was deserted, save for Greg, who was sitting at the long table that dominated the center of the room. He had a paper coffee cup tipped towards him on the table, so he could regard its contents. There was a grimace of distaste on his face.

"Every body agrees, but nobody ever does anything about it," Nick said softly, hoping he wouldn't scare the younger man.

Setting his coffee cup flat on the table again, Greg looked up at Nick. He smiled shyly at the older man, sure the tips of his ears were turning red from embarrassment and desire, as the second half of the previous night's dream came flooding back. It dawned on him that Nick's neck had turned crimson, and wondered what was causing the older man so much embarrassment.

Nick felt the heat rushing up his neck, was powerless to stop it, as images from his dream filled his head. He noticed the tips of Greg's ears had turned a lovely shade of red, and wondered why.

"There was this blend that I used to drink, before..." Greg trailed off momentarily, realizing he was about to reveal too much. Continuing, he said, "It was pure ambrosia. I haven't found anything to equal it since I got to Vegas."

Nick desperately wanted to ask the younger man out for a drink after shift, but he felt sure it was too early. He wanted a chance to try to reverse some of the damage that had been done to the younger man's psyche. He just prayed that the damage wasn't permanent, that Greg hadn't been broken by whatever he'd been through.

Surprising himself, Greg said softly, "I would be honored if you'd allow me to buy you a drink, after shift." He couldn't believe how incredibly safe Nick made him feel.

Eyes widening in shock, wondering if Greg had read his mind, Nick stammered, "I- I..." As one part of his brain tried to form an answer to Greg's question, another part of his brain was processing the way Greg had worded his request. It was almost as if the younger man had materialized in this time from an era long past, where father's were asked permission before their daughters were courted, and chaperones accompanied the couples on their dates.

Backpedaling as quickly as he could, thinking he'd completely misread the older man, Greg said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

Nick cut him off, "No, no, it's..." He watched as Greg prepared to leave, head down cast, as he still thought he'd misread the older man. "I'd love to, G!"

Head snapping around towards Nick in surprise, Greg allowed a happy smile to play across his features. "Would you mind suggesting a place, maybe driving? I don't really know my way around, yet." Just like that, the feeling that Greg was from a bygone era faded.

The next thought that struck Nick was that there was the faintest note of an accent in Greg's voice. The younger man hadn't spoken enough for Nick to notice it before, but he did now, and he wondered about it. It was so faint, it was nearly undetectable, but it was there, and it was sexy as hell.

"How about this, instead, then. Let's go out to breakfast, then I'll take you on a tour of the city, show you some of the places us locals like to go. I'm pretty sure we might be able to find a good coffee house. I've never been much of a coffee drinker, but I could help you find a blend you like."

About that time, Warrick and Catherine walked in, but Greg didn't glance their way. Instead, he gave Nick another shy smile, and said, "I'd like that," which caused Nick's face to nearly split in half with the size of his grin.

Rising from his seat, Greg finally acknowledged the other presences with a quick, "Hi!" before heading towards the door.

Warrick responded with a quiet, "Hey, Greggo!" He had taken Nick's concerns to heart about the younger man, and was doing his best to help Nick set him at ease. Catherine seemed to think it best if she maintained her silence, instead just shooting Greg a friendly smile and nod.

When the younger man was finally out the door and headed towards his lab, Warrick said, "What was that all about, man?"

Nick finally sank into a chair, his right foot bouncing up and down with sudden nervous energy and excitement. "He asked me out!"

Catherine was the first to react to this, "That timid little mouse asked _you_ out?" Nick didn't think she'd meant it in a mean way, but he took offence, nonetheless.

"Oh, come on, Cath! Timid little mouse?"

"Okay, maybe not the best choice of words, Nicky. I'm sorry. But you of all people should be able to read the messages his body is sending out! He's being abused!"

"No, he's not," he snapped, then continued a little quieter, "At least, not anymore."

Catherine cocked an eyebrow at him in an "Uh huh. Exactly how many times have you heard that line, only to end up processing the scene of a battered wife's murder?"

"Don't ask me how I know, I just do!" the words came out more harshly than he'd intended.

Raising her hands in an "I surrender" gesture, Catherine said, "Okay, Nicky."

Allowing an adequately chastised look to settle on his face, Nick said, "Sorry, Cath."

He was saved from any further embarrassment by Grissom's arrival with assignments. Nick knew this was going to be a long night. Nick was paired with Grissom on a triple homicide at the MGM Grand, Catherine was working a home invasion in Henderson, Warrick a B&E on the north side of Vegas, and even Brass was working a scene.

~~~CSI~~~

It had taken eight hours to process the scene, but they were finally done.

Climbing out of the Tahoe, Nick stretched his arms above his head, trying to work the kinks out of his back. Then he scrubbed his hands vigorously over his face, desperate to look alert and awake.

Meeting Grissom at the back of the SUV, he grabbed an armload of evidence from the cargo bay. "I'll get these to DNA and Trace."

"Thank you, Nick. Then go on home. We'll start processing everything tomorrow," Grissom responded, picking up the rest of the evidence.

Nick stopped at Trace first, insuring he wouldn't have to go anywhere else after the DNA lab.

The corridors were quiet, and for a change, Nick didn't pass anyone. His eyes were drawn to the glass walls of the DNA lab, and the lithe DNA tech working within. As Nick had discovered the day before, Greg seemed to relax when he was alone. The younger man was leaning over the microscope, as he studied a sample closely. His hips were swaying back and forth in a manner that Nick found incredibly sensual.

Letting out a laugh before he reached the door, Nick said, "Hey, G!" as the younger man straightened away from the microscope. There was the slightest tightening of features, as though the younger man was slipping back into role for a play, and had to make sure he didn't slip up and say his lines wrong. Nick wondered if it had more to do with not letting the wrong thing slip out, than getting lines wrong.

A smile settled on Greg's face, as he turned towards Nick. He gestured towards the evidence bags in Nick's hand. "Have some samples for me to run?"

"Nah, just log them in and leave them for day shift." Looking pointedly at the clock, Nick said, "Shift ended ten minutes ago, and as I recall, we have a date." He held the evidence bags out to Greg, who took them without flinching.

Greg felt Nick's eyes on him, as he moved to log in the bags and store them away for day shift to deal with. If it had been any of the other CSIs watching him, he would have been nervous as all get out, but with Nick, it was different.

Having dealt with the DNA samples, Greg began to straighten up the lab, determined to leave it neat for the next shift. Picking up a glass bottle of hydrochloric acid, he turned to return it to its proper place on the shelf of chemicals.

The bottle slipped from his fingers, shattering as it hit the edge of the glass work table. Taking a step back, as he began to fumble with the acid splashed lab coat, Greg let out a startled, "Nein!"

Nick – too busy stepping in to help Greg rid himself of the dissolving garment – apparently didn't hear Greg's slip. He did however, notice the hole forming in the leather cuff Greg was once more wearing over his left forearm. Thinking quickly, disregarding his own safety, Nick pulled the cuff free and allowed it to clatter to the floor.

The rush of adrenaline making him pant, Nick said, "You okay?" He reached for the box of baking soda, kept in the lab for emergencies such as this, where a neutralizing agent was called for.

"I- I think so. None got on my skin." Without conscious thought, Greg's right hand had moved to his left forearm, clamping down over his identification tattoo.

As he began to sprinkle baking soda over the lab table and the floor where the acid had splashed, Nick's eyes gave Greg a quick, appraising once over, to reassure himself that the younger man was, indeed, unscathed. His gaze stopped on Greg's right hand, where it was clamped over his forearm.

Stepping towards Greg, baking soda box still in hand, Nick said, "Let me see."

Panic settling in his eyes, Greg took a step back. "I'm fine! I didn't get any on me, Nick!"

"Then let me see," Nick said, his voice low and urgent. If Greg was lying, for whatever reason, then each second that went by was more time for the acid to eat through Greg's flesh.

"Please!" Greg's plea tore through Nick's heart and brain, bringing him crashing back to himself with the sudden realization that he'd continued to advance on the younger man until Greg's back had been pressed against the shelving unit that normally housed the acid.

Nick reeled back, as though struck. Voicing a strangled, "Oh, God! I'm sorry, Greg!" he retreated to the other side of the lab, giving Greg space. He prayed that he hadn't ruined any chances he had with the younger man.

When Nick had gotten far enough away from Greg, Greg made a dash for the door. He knew Nick wouldn't hurt him, he knew that! Just the feeling of being trapped had overwhelmed him, making him panic.

Nearly running into Warrick in his haste to escape the DNA lab, Greg just managed to swerve around him, hand still clamped firmly on his forearm. Warrick turned, watching Greg's retreating back, as the younger man continued his headlong dash down the corridor. He slammed through the bathroom door, not considering the significance of his destination, until he was already inside.

Warrick found Nick, carefully cleaning up glass and baking soda neutralized acid, muttering, "Shit! Shit! Shit!" under his breath like a mantra.

"Nicky?"

Turning a tortured gaze on Warrick, Nick resignedly said, "I screwed up my chances with him, 'Rick."

Taking a look around, Warrick said, "I'll finish cleaning this up. You, go talk to him!" He didn't ask for any specifics about what had happened, just trusted that whatever it was, the two men would be able to work it out, if they'd just talk it through. When he saw Nick hesitating, Warrick said, "Go, or I'll drag you down to the mens' room, myself!"

Nick trudged his way down to the mens' room, as though he were a death row inmate walking down the hall to the execution room, and his death. Before pushing the door opened, he tapped lightly on it, not wanting to scare Greg worse than he already had.

Pushing through the door, he said, "Greg, it's Nick. I'm coming in."

Inside, Greg was sitting on the floor against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest. When Nick entered, he scrambled to his feet, pressing his back up against the wall. His hands had fallen to his sides, as in his fear, he forgot that he had been covering the hated tattoo.

Nick stopped just inside the door, couldn't help thinking about the first half of his dream from the night before for the briefest of moments before tamping it down. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he shoved them deeply into the pockets of his jeans. His eyes darted to Greg's, then quickly away again. They paused briefly at the tattoo on Greg's arm, then dropped to the floor, in front of his feet. He tried to comprehend what the significance of the tattoo was, knew he should know what it meant, but drew a blank. It was just a series of numbers, forever imprinted in the younger man's skin.

Unsure if he should bring up the tattoo, deciding against it, Nick murmured, "I'm so sorry! I had to know you were okay. Shit! I..." He trailed off for a moment, unsure of exactly what he should say, then, "I- I have this protective streak that's a mile wide, especially when someone I care deeply about is in danger. And I know I've only known you for a little over a day, but I feel this... I don't even know how to explain it adequately!"

A very quiet, "I feel it too. Seelengehilfen," broke into Nick's monologue.

Falling quiet, Nick blinked at Greg, trying to decipher exactly what the younger man had said. Finally, "What?"

Realizing he'd slipped into German again, Greg repeated what he'd said, "I feel it too, Nicky. Soul mates. My nana told me about them, when I was a small boy. She said that when you meet your soul mate, you just know it. I know you'd never hurt me, Nicky." Pushing away from the wall, Greg took a hesitant step towards Nick, then another. When he was finally standing in front of Nick, Greg laid an uncertain, shaking hand on Nick's chest.

Refusing to meet Nick's gaze, he locked his eyes on his hand where it rested on the older man's chest, he could feel Nick's heart beating out a frantic rhythm. "What happened... it wasn't your fault, Nicky. I flashed back to something... unpleasant that happened to me in the past." Finally meeting Nick's gaze with a tentative smile, he said, "I'd still like that breakfast."

His eyes traveling over the tattoo again, as it was Greg's left hand on his chest, Nick said, "You don't ever have to tell me any of it, if you don't want to. But I'd like to know." Then he let out a small sigh of relief, and said, "Let's go get that breakfast."

Greg's cheeks turned rosy, as he blushed under the older man's scrutiny, and he dropped his arm back to his side. Taking a few steps back, he moved, so Nick could open the door he stood in front of.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks again to Babel Fish for the translations.

Bitte! Nicht wieder! = Please! Not again!

Oh, Gott! = Oh, God!

Bitte stoppen Sie nicht = Please, do not stop!

Chapter 4

Nick was leaning against the arm of his sofa. Greg was curled into him with his head on Nick's chest, snoring softly. A week had passed, since the incident with the acid, and the two men had become nearly inseparable outside of work. During work, Nick had begun to touch the younger man in nonthreatening ways. A pat on the shoulder here, a brush of his hand on Greg's arm there, even the smallest invasion of Greg's personal space.

After work, they would go out to breakfast, sitting in the booth long after they'd both finished eating. They chatted about interests and Nick's past, but Greg still wouldn't open up about his own past. Nick did find out the younger man had a love of video games, comedy movies, and Rocky Road ice cream. They would stay at the diner until one or two of the waitresses would walk by, pointedly glaring at them several times to express their desire for the two men to leave.

For the first time, Nick had invited Greg over to his place, instead of going out to breakfast. Suggesting instead, that he fix them both something, and they could watch a movie. Greg had agreed, and now the movie, Adam Sandler's _50 First Dates_ was at an end. About half way through, Greg had cuddled into Nick with a sigh at the sappiness of the movie. A few minutes after that, the younger man had fallen asleep.

Loath to move and wake the obviously exhausted man, Nick used the remote to switch over to the satellite DVR and ESPN. He turned the volume down, then set the remote aside again, before settling his arm across Greg's shoulder. Greg shifted marginally, moving his face into the crook of Nick's neck, before settling again.

Nick had been mindlessly watching the football game for several minutes, when Greg let out a whimper of fear. It was quickly followed by, "Nein! Bitte! Nicht wieder!"

Shock settled over Nick, as he realized the words continuing to spill out of Greg's mouth, as a result of his tortured dream, were unmistakably German. The fact that Greg was talking in his sleep, in German, had Nick convinced that the accent the younger man had tried so hard to mask was indeed German, and that Greg was not the native English speaker he had seemed to be.

Pushing this revelation to the side for now, Nick concentrated on waking the younger man up. Touching Greg's cheek gently, Nick murmured, "Greg, wake up." When that didn't work, he tried a little louder, "G, baby! Wake up, you're having a nightmare."

This finally worked, for Greg sat up with a jerk. Nick let him go, not wanting to risk frightening him further, but Greg didn't move away. His hand remained on Nick's chest, where it had been earlier curled between them. Their eyes met, and Greg let out a small sound of relief.

"You okay?" Nick asked, raising his right hand to lightly brush his knuckles across Greg's cheek.

Not trusting himself to speak, Greg nodded. It was the same dream that he'd been having since his escape. There had been a change to it the last few days, though. Each time, Nick had appeared in it, pulling the guard off of him. Nick's absence in this dream had made it seem so much worse.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep," Greg said a bit sheepishly. He wondered if Nick had been awake the whole time, began to wonder if Nick's presence in his dreams was merely coincidence, or coincided with the older man's being asleep, as well.

"It's okay, G," Nick smiled at him reassuringly, running his knuckles across Greg's cheek again. "I enjoyed watching you sleep, least until the nightmare hit you."

Heat rushed up Greg's neck, into his cheeks. "You were watching me sleep?" He felt Nick's hand slide down to his shoulder, felt Nick's thumb brush over the juncture between his neck and shoulder, couldn't help but shiver in delight at the feel of Nick's hand on him. As he succumbed to the sensations Nick was evoking in him, Greg's mouth failed to take direction from his brain. "Have you dreamt of me, Nick?"

The shock on Nick's face was immediate, but he continued to gently stroke his thumb over the skin of Greg's neck. "How'd you know I've been dreaming of you, G?"

Resigning himself to having this discussion, hoping he could avoid revealing too much, if anything, Greg said, "Because I think we've been sharing a dream. Tell me about it, please!" Avoiding the older man's gaze, Greg leaned back into Nick, hiding his face in the crook of the older man's neck before sliding down a bit and resting his head on Nick's chest. He cradled his right hand between them again.

Allowing his hand to slide to Greg's back, Nick voiced what had continued to gnaw at him since the first night he'd had the dream, "What's the significance of the German soldier, G? Is he supposed to symbolize who hurt you?" Without even realizing it, Nick had given Greg the explanation he needed.

Greg didn't speak, just nodded against Nick's chest, his eyes tightly closed.

"The rest of the dream?" Nick asked softly, his hand trailed up Greg's back to the younger man's hair, where his fingers ran gently through the soft strands.

Moving his head into the hollow of Nick's throat, Greg huskily said, "A manifestation of what we both want," then began to lightly kiss the older man's neck.

Feeling the blood rush to his cock, as Greg kissed his way up to his chin, Nick carefully took the younger man by the upper arms, pulling him away so their gazes could meet. "Are you sure? I don't want to do anything that might hurt you, G."

Unable to help the blush that spread over his face, Greg said, "I wake up covered in my own cum, but still so hard it hurts. I need this! I need _you_!" Reaching up, Greg pulled one of Nick's hands from his arm, brought it down to his crotch, pressed it against his rock hard cock. "Bitte! Please!"

Breath hitching in his throat, as he finally had his hands on what he'd been dreaming and fantasizing about for days, Nick gently stroked over the bulge in Greg's jeans. Using his other hand to pull at Greg's arm, Nick managed to maneuver Greg onto his lap. Moving the hand from Greg's arm to the back of his neck, Nick brought the younger man's lips to his own.

Their first kiss was tentative, just the meeting of lips, then Greg sucked Nick's lower lip into his mouth, laving his tongue over it, and their kiss deepened. As their tongues met, Nick stroked Greg's cock, then set his hand over the bulge and squeezed gently.

Groaning, Greg rearranged his position, so he was straddling Nick's thighs. As he continued to kiss Nick, his hands trailed to the hem of Nick's shirt, pulling it up enough that he could run his palms up the older man's stomach and over his sides.

Nick moved his hand from Greg's crotch to his thigh, his other hand moving to Greg's other thigh. Rubbing the palms of his hands up Greg's thighs, Nick moved them to Greg's hips, then to Greg's ass. Kneading denim covered butt cheeks, Nick pulled Greg closer to him, so their cocks brushed together through their jeans.

His head falling back, Greg let out a low, "Oh, Gott!" Belatedly realizing that he'd spoken in German again, Greg tried to cover the slip, but what he said seemed to prove that his mouth had stopped taking direction from his brain, as he murmured, "You must be the reason I'm in this time."

Nick had been nibbling on Greg's neck, but now pulled back, meeting Greg's gaze with a raised eyebrow.

A fingertip trailed lightly over Nick's abs proved distraction enough, as the older man's skin seemed to dance under the touch, an involuntary laugh erupting from his kiss swollen lips.

Completely forgetting about what Greg had said, Nick captured the younger man's hand in his and brought it to his lips. Placing a soft kiss to each of Greg's fingertips, Nick murmured, "My bed would be much more comfortable."

Slipping from the couch to his feet, Greg captured Nick's other hand and pulled Nick to his feet. As Nick steered them in the direction of his room, Greg pulled Nick's arms around his waist, awkwardly pushing himself up against Nick as they moved. He managed to insinuate a hand between their closely pressed bodies, stroking it over the bulge in Nick's jeans.

Steps faltering slightly at the pleasure, Nick buried his face in the crook of Greg's neck. A moment later, a low growl of need escaping his throat, he reached for the hem of Greg's shirt, pulling it up over the younger man's head and tossing it to the floor. As they continued to move, nearly to the bedroom door now, Nick began to place light kisses over the smooth cream colored skin of Greg's shoulders.

Finally through the doorway, Nick brought Greg to a stop by pulling the younger man flush against him once more. His hands moved up from Greg's stomach to his chest, smoothing over lightly toned muscle up to the younger man's nipples. After teasing the tight little buds for a moment, he trailed his hands back down to the fly of Greg's jeans.

As Nick was pushing Greg's pants down his long legs, Greg twisted around to face him. Their lips met in another fiery kiss. And now it was Greg's turn to undress Nick. Starting with his shirt, he pulled it over the older man's head, allowing it to fall to the floor, already reaching for the fly of Nick's jeans.

Once his jeans were pooled at his feet, Nick gently pushed the younger man onto the bed, crawled up himself so that he was kneeling between Greg's thighs. Leaning down, he nuzzled Greg's neck, trailing kisses down to the clavicle, where he nipped the flesh and sucked it, before laving it with his tongue, ensuring there would be a nice mark there by later that night. As he continued to trail kisses on Greg's neck and chest, he fumbled the drawer to his bedside table opened and retrieved a wrapped condom and tube of lube.

Greg wasn't exactly sure what Nick had retrieved from the bedside table, but now Nick was working his way down Greg's chest, and Greg found he couldn't bring himself to care. Whatever it was, as long as Nick continued to make him feel this good, he would allow the older man to do just about anything to him. As Nick's warm tongue laved over his nipples, Greg arched off the bed, letting out a low keening whine. Nick's tongue dipping into his navel caused Greg to burst out in giggles.

Nick didn't stop, but looked up at him with an arched brow, chocolate colored eyes nearly black with lust.

Between giggles, Greg managed to get out, "No one's- no one's ever done that to me before." Of course, the truth was no one had ever done any of this to him before, as in his own time, it was inappropriate to have sex outside of wedlock, and he certainly wouldn't have been doing this with another man, during his own time. He had firmly decided that the times he'd been raped by the guard didn't count.

Greg was brought abruptly back from his thoughts by first a hand wrapping around his leaking cock, then a tentative tongue darting into the slit. He couldn't help the way his hips bucked, as his body insisted on more. Looking down, he encountered Nick's eyes, gazing intently at him, as the older man continued to lick and lav over his aching length.

A hesitant finger brushing across his opening had Greg bucking his hips again, a gasp of mingled shock and pleasure escaping him in a rush. This was so different from what had been done to him by the guard, that he nearly cried in relief.

"You okay?" Nick asked quietly, pulling off of Greg's cock just enough to murmur the words and wait for Greg's answer.

"Bitte stoppen Sie nicht!"

Greg didn't realize he'd slipped into German again until Nick said, "Fuck, G! I don't understand a word of German, but it sounds sexy as hell on your lips!"

And just like that, the fear of discovery was back. Pulling abruptly away from Nick, Greg tried to get off the bed, but Nick captured his wrist, stopping him. "Please, let me in. I want so badly to help you, take care of you, but I can't do that unless I know what happened."

Sinking back to the bed, Greg allowed his head to fall forward, eyes closing. He felt Nick release his hand, but didn't move to leave. He knew he could trust the older man, but could he take the chance that he'd be putting him in danger, or that Nick wouldn't believe him? "It's a long story," he hoped that alone might dissuade Nick, but it wasn't meant to be.

"I'll make time."

Twisting his head to look over at Nick, as the older man crossed his legs underneath himself, completely comfortable in his own skin, Greg said, "Either you won't believe me, or I'll be putting you into possible danger, or both."

Nick wanted to laugh, but sensed that the younger man wouldn't tell him anything if he did. "Greg, I carry a gun at work everyday. I think I can protect myself. As for the other, I've always considered myself to be open minded."

Breathing forcefully out, Greg then took a long deep breath, working out in his mind what he wanted to say. "I was born in nineteen twenty to David and Judith Sandler, in Germany." Sensing Nick was about to protest that there was no way this was possible, Greg said, "Please, let me tell you everything, Nick. I promise, it'll make more sense once you've heard everything. Then you can protest, or ask all the questions you want."

Greg's right hand settled over the tattoo on his left arm, his fingertip tracing over each number. "I graduated with a dual doctorate in chemistry and physics in nineteen thirty-nine, the year the war broke out. I was nineteen, and naive. I didn't think my family would be in danger. We were German citizens, after all. But then the soldiers began to round up German Jews who were citizens, too."

Thrusting his left arm out at Nick, tattooed side up, Greg said, "I was branded with this in Neuengamme, in 1940. I probably would have died there making bricks, but they found out about my dual doctorates. I was so naive at the time, I believed them when they told me that if I worked on their project, they'd let me go."

Scooting back some on the bed, Greg pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them before continuing, his eyes locked resolutely on his feet. "They already had their best and brightest working on it, but it was with my help that they finally made the breakthrough they'd been looking for."

Nick found himself transfixed by the younger man's story. He wasn't sure yet what to believe, but Greg was so sincere. When Greg didn't seem able to continue, Nick couldn't help asking, "What was it? What was the project?"

Finally looking up at Nick, brown eyes bright with desperation, but no madness, he said, "Time travel, Nicky."


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: All translations are from Babel Fish.

Guten Morgen! = Good morning!

Benötigen Sie Sie! = Need you!

Bitte! = Please!

Meine Liebe! = My love!

Dar war unglaublich! = That was incredible!

Chapter 5

"Time travel! But..." Nick's eyes widened disbelievingly. "How is it that no one knows about it?" There was no way this could be true. If it were, people today would be traveling through time. The war would have ended differently. Something!

Now there was a slightly fanatical light in Greg's eyes. "We found out early on that there were restrictions to what could be done. Hitler wanted to be able to go back in time, change certain events to his favor. Imagine, Winston Churchill or any of the other Allied leaders – hell, all of the Allied leaders – killed as children. But we found out you can't go backwards in time, not from your own present, at any rate. Too much risk of a paradox. The space/time continuum will not allow paradoxes."

Nick's scientist mind revved up, and he said, "If one of the Allied leaders were killed as a child, changing the coarse of history to your present, then the person who had gone back wouldn't have gone back, thus, that leader would never have been killed. I guess I see what you're saying. It's enough to give a person a headache."

"Then Hitler decided that if he couldn't go back in time to make changes, perhaps things could be brought back to our time, from the future, that would turn the tide of the war." A smile full of dark amusement settled on Greg's face. "That didn't work out the way he wanted it to, either. People could travel through time just fine, but they're limited to what they can take through time with them. Paper, for instance, turns to dust. Anything else being brought or taken has to be loaf of bread size or smaller. It was certainly not what Hitler was hoping for, and to say he was majorly pissed at the limitations would be an understatement. He blamed it all on me. I knew I had to find a way to escape."

Greg stopped for a moment, running his hands up and down his upper arms.

Nick shifted to Greg's side, pulling the younger man to him. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me any more. I believe you." Shockingly enough, Nick found that he did believe the younger man.

"No, you should know all of it. Just in case..." Greg didn't finish that sentence, but went on with his story. "I slept in the lab, but I had a round the clock guard. He followed me everywhere, even into the bathroom." Throwing his arms around Nick's neck, Greg buried his face into the older man's shoulder, a shudder wracking his body.

"So, the guard in your dream..." Nick trailed off. It hadn't just been Greg's subconscious mind symbolizing anything.

Nodding into Nick's shoulder, Greg choked out, "I finally started waiting to go to the bathroom until my bladder felt like it might burst because I had to go so badly. Every time I went into the bathroom, he forced himself on me. The irony of it is he was supposed to be superior to everyone, one of Hitler's supermen. Every single superman was supposed to be blond haired, blue eyed, and straight. Ha! If they'd ever found out about him, he'd have been put down like a rabid animal!"

Pulling back again, Greg wiped his eyes, then said, "They sedated me every night, too. I got good at cheeking those, though. Started slipping them into the guard's food. While he was sedated, I worked on the homing bracelets, subtly sabotaging all but one of them."

"Why not just destroy them?"

"I had thought about that, but they had enough knowledge of how they were made that they could probably rebuild them without me. I couldn't risk that. As it is, I couldn't do anything about the home base unit. The way I sabotaged the bracelets, they would work for one trip forward, stranding the user in the future. There's always the risk that they'll figure out what I did, and fix them, though."

Confusion crossed Nick's face. "If they'd been able to, wouldn't they already have done that and found you?"

"There are a couple of reasons they may already have fixed them and not come after me, yet. The bracelets have the ability to track each other, but the more time jumps made with one, the harder it is to use one of the others to track it. This wasn't the first time I jumped to. I worked my way forward through time, spending a few months in a time before moving on. I've spent approximately three years moving forward through time. This wasn't going to be my last stop, either."

Reaching out a hesitant hand, Greg trailed his fingertips over Nick's arm, twining their fingers together when his hand reached Nick's. His voice was barely above a whisper as he continued speaking, "The mathematical equations needed to make accurate jumps are incredibly complex and nearly impossible, at least with the computers available in the past. Jumps can be as much as ten years off of the target year and hundreds of miles from the target location. I was aiming for nineteen ninety-four, in Las Angeles. I ended up here, and now, instead." Gaze traveling from their intertwined fingers to Nick's face, Greg said, "You're why I'm in this time. The half of my soul that I thought I would forever be denied."

Turning his head away, closing his eyes, Greg said, "You probably think I'm insane. I wouldn't blame you, if you wanted me to leave."

Shifting so he was sitting closer to Greg, Nick gently took Greg's chin in his hand, bringing the younger man's gaze to his own. "It's a lot to take in, G. I won't deny that. But I believe you. Don't ask me why, because I don't understand it, myself. There's just something about you. I believe you!"

Sighing in relief, Greg sagged into Nick, wrapping his arms tightly around the other man's waist and burying his face in Nick's chest. As Nick's arms encircled him in an embrace that made him feel loved and safe, Greg found himself utterly exhausted, not just physically, but mentally, too.

Sensing Greg's fatigue, Nick fumbled behind them to pull the covers down, then maneuvered them properly into the bed. Spooning Greg tightly against him, Nick murmured in the younger man's ear, "Sleep, baby." Nick didn't give in to his own exhaustion until he felt Greg's breathing slow and deepen.

~~~CSI~~~

Fingertips trailing lightly over his chest, and a warm mouth tentatively exploring his nipple brought Nick to wakefulness hours later. His sleep had been dreamless and restful, and it seemed that Greg's had been as well, if what the younger man was doing to him was any indication.

"Mmm..." Nick moaned out, his hands going to Greg's hair, fingers tangling in it. Tugging Greg's head gently back, Nick met the younger man's gaze, the smile on his face twinkling in his eyes. "Good morning!" he murmured, before leaning down to claim Greg's lips in a passion filled kiss.

When they pulled back a moment later, gasping for breath, Greg whispered shyly, "Guten Morgen!"

Touching their lips together again, Nick gently pushed Greg onto his back. Trailing kisses down the younger man's jaw to his neck, then to his clavicle, Nick laved over the mark he'd left there the night before. As Nick continued to work his way down Greg's chest, the younger man began to murmur, "Bitte! Benötigen Sie Sie, Nicky!" as he arched his back.

Retrieving the condom and lube from the bedside table, Nick lubed up his fingers.

Greg watching him curiously, finally asked, "What is that?"

One arched eyebrow the only surprise he allowed himself to show, Nick replied, a bit flustered, "It's, um, sexual lubricant. It will reduce your discomfort."

"Oh," was Greg's one syllable reply. Fear briefly touched his eyes, but was quickly pushed away.

"I won't hurt you, Greg. I promise!" Nick assured him.

Locking eyes with him, Nick leaned down and laved the crown of the younger man's cock with his tongue. Thus distracting his lover, Nick moved his lubed fingers to Greg's tight entrance. Brushing his fingers across the puckered opening, Nick felt his own cock swell further at the thought of being inside that tight heat.

Gently restraining Greg's hips with his free hand, as the younger man began to buck against him, Nick finally engulfed his cock in his mouth, while pushing one finger past the tight ring of muscle into Greg's body.

Feeling Greg tense, Nick stopped the movement of his finger. Running his tongue over the throbbing vein on Greg's cock, all the way to the slit, Nick felt the younger man begin to relax again. He kept his finger still for a little longer, just giving Greg a chance to become accustomed to the intrusion of the one digit.

Greg couldn't believe how incredible what Nick was doing to him felt. The older man seemed to know exactly what to do and when to do it to keep Greg from panicking. He didn't even realize Nick had added a second finger until they were moving inside of him, stretching him with a delicious burn that was no where near the pain his tormentor had inflicted upon him.

When the fingers deep inside of him brushed across his prostate, Greg's breath left him in a rush, only to be drawn back in just as quickly. His back arching off the bed, eyes wide open in surprise at the intensity of the pleasure, Greg gasped out, "Fühlt sich gut!" Realizing he'd spoken in German again, wanting to ensure Nick understood just how good this was, Greg managed to rasp out, "Feels so good, Nicky!"

By now, Nick was so hard as to be in near physical pain. He hadn't touched himself, as his first priority was bringing Greg as much pleasure as possible. The first time he'd brushed his fingers across Greg's sweet spot, he was sure he'd hurt the younger man, from the reaction he received. After assuring himself that it was actually the exact opposite, he'd resumed his movements, gently stretching Greg's opening, stroking over Greg's prostate several more times.

When he finally added a third finger, Nick knew Greg was close to the edge of climax. The vein on the underside of Greg's cock was pulsing steadily, and the younger man was straining against the arm Nick still held over his hips.

Words were falling from Greg's mouth, mostly in German, but some in English, too. "Bitte! Want you in me! Bitte! Meine Liebe!"

Sitting back on his knees, Nick grabbed the condom package and tore it open with shaking fingers. He had to fight his own urge to cum as he slipped the latex over his own leaking cock, finally had to resort to wrapping his thumb and index finger tightly around the base, as he used his other hand to spread lube from the tip to the base. It didn't help that Greg had watched him the entire time, his eyes intense, even through their lust glaze.

Bracing his upper body weight on his right hand, Nick guided the head of his cock to Greg's entrance with the other. As he slowly pushed past the outer ring of muscle, he kept a close eye on Greg's face for signs of pain or panic.

Nick was pushing so gently into him, Greg barely felt a twinge of pain. It burned some, but no real pain. He couldn't believe how carefully Nick was moving into him, especially as aroused as Nick was. It was obvious to Greg that Nick really wanted to move faster, but wouldn't risk it for his sake. It made Greg love him all the more.

Seeing the tears welling up in Greg's eyes, Nick instantly stopped moving, prepared to pull out, but Greg's hands on his cheeks stopped him.

"You're not hurting me, Nick. It's the opposite, really. I never thought I'd have this with anyone. Please, don't stop!" It took an act of will to ensure he uttered the words in English. He was experiencing such exquisite pleasure that his brain didn't want to function properly. His vision was blurred from the tears flowing from his eyes and down his temples.

Finally sheathing himself fully in Greg, Nick removed his hand from its near death grip on the base of his cock. Bringing his left hand up by Greg's head, Nick shifted so his weight was being supported by his forearms. Reveling in the feeling of Greg surrounding him, Nick didn't move for several minutes, just lay there, gazing into his lover's eyes. His hands brushed tears from Greg's temples, pushed through the younger man's hair.

Capturing Greg's lips in a tender kiss, Nick began to gently rock his hips, pushing himself deeper into the younger man, angling so the head of his cock brushed across Greg's prostate. Their bodies rubbing together added beautiful friction along Greg's cock, causing him to arch up into Nick with a wordless moan of pleasure.

Greg had already been so close, he now fell over the precipice of his orgasm. Milky white semen bathed their stomachs in warmth.

The look of unrestrained pleasure on Greg's face took Nick over the edge to his own climax, as with a shot of Greg's name, he filled the tip of the condom. Managing to keep his weight off Greg, even through his orgasm, Nick kept his position, now, loathe to pull free of the younger man yet. He leaned in, nuzzling Greg's neck, nipping the tender flesh, then laving over the tiny bites with his tongue.

Greg's hands found their way to Nick's hair, where his fingers tangled in the dark locks. "Nicky!" he sighed. "Das war unglaublich!"

Reluctantly pulling out of Greg, Nick discarded the used condom in the general direction of the waste basket, and grabbed a couple of tissues to clean them both up. As he wiped the mess off of Greg's stomach first, Nick leaned in and murmured, "I don't know what you said, but I have a pretty good idea. That was amazing!"

After getting himself cleaned up, Nick lay back down and pulled Greg securely against him. Within minutes, they were both soundly sleeping again.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Max Trent, age twenty-seven. Severely beaten before being shot in the head," Vartann was telling Nick and Grissom about the victim, but Nick wasn't listening very closely. He was finding it difficult to concentrate on what the veteran homicide detective was telling them.

The dark brown, nearly black haired, vacantly staring brown eyed body could have been Greg. The man's face was bruised and bloodied, but still recognizable enough that the similarities to Greg made Nick shiver.

In the five months Nick had been dating the younger man, he had managed to push thoughts of what Greg had been through to the back of his mind. No Nazis from the past had come after Greg, and while both men kept up a certain vigilance, there was no more mentioned about it.

"You know, he bares a striking resemblance to a vic from a scene Catherine and I processed two days ago," Grissom said, causing Nick's head to snap up to look at him. The contemplative look on Grissom's face told Nick the older man was thinking about the implications of having two victims who looked so much alike. "No suspects, and that vic was also beaten before being killed by a single gunshot to the head. The bullet was nine millimeter, and Bobby said he was fairly confident he knew the type of gun it was fired from, but he wanted to do some research to be sure."

Vartann was now taking a closer look at the dead man as well. Eyes widening in alarm, he said, "Now that you mention it, there was a case a week ago, Warrick covered it. That young man also looked a lot like this vic. Same MO, no suspects." Vartann trailed off for a moment, before he said, "I'm going to give Warrick a call."

Feeling the blood drain from his face, Nick wasn't sure he'd be able to make it out to the hall before he passed out, but he wasn't about to risk Grissom's wrath by contaminating a crime scene by fainting in it. He managed to stumble a couple of steps towards the door, when he felt a hand on his elbow, steadying him. Did the other two men truly not see it, or were they just not voicing the fact that this vic, at least, looked so much like Greg?

It wasn't until he'd managed to get out into the apartment complex hallway and slid down the wall that Nick was able to see who had helped him get out of the crime scene.

"Nicky, you okay?" Grissom was kneeling beside him, blue eyes filled with concern.

Putting his head between his knees in a bid to buy himself time to think, as well as to keep himself from passing out, Nick tried to slow his breathing down. Three men killed in the space of a week, all of whom looked a lot alike. _Don't hide from it, Nick_, he thought to himself. _If the other two resemble this one as much as Grissom and Vartann seem to think, they all look a lot like Greg._ It could be a coincidence. It didn't mean the Nazis had fixed their time travel bracelets and tracked Greg down. Unfortunately, in Nick's job, he'd come to discover there really was no such thing as coincidence.

Regaining control of his breathing, Nick risked leaning his head back against the wall, and gave Grissom a shaky smile. "I'm okay. Must be coming down with the flu." He hoped Grissom would buy the deception. As much as he feared for Greg's safety, he couldn't tell his supervisor any of what Greg had told him. Grissom would never believe it, and would probably call his sanity into question.

Straightening back up, Grissom looked down at Nick, "I can handle this. Go home and get some rest."

Smiling wanly up at his boss, Nick said, "Sure thing, Gris," though he had no intention of following his boss's orders.

When he felt he could stand without risking passing out again, Nick pulled himself to his feet and left the building.

Even though he wanted to run the lights and siren so he could floor the accelerator, Nick didn't want to draw any undue attention to himself. Besides, Greg was surrounded by cops, detectives, and CSIs who all carried firearms. Not to mention Nick had been teaching Greg how to shoot, and while Greg was no marksman, he could hold his own in a firefight. As a law enforcement officer, even if only a lab rat, Greg had the right to carry a concealed weapon. Grissom had raised his eyebrow when he'd noticed the telltale bulge under Greg's lab coat, but no one had questioned Greg over the appearance of the Glock that had become as much a part of the younger man's wardrobe as his bright purple trainers. Nick had to trust that no one in their right mind would attack Greg at the lab. He was safe there!

Finally reaching the crime lab, Nick peaked into the DNA lab to reassure himself that Greg was okay, then found a darkened layout room to slip into. Logging quickly into the computer, he brought up the files for the other two cases. As he had feared, those vics did bare a remarkable resemblance to the victim found tonight, and Greg. Going over the rest of the notes, Nick found only one other item of interest. His blood ran cold as he read the firearms report. A Walther P38 had been used to kill both victims. Bobby's notes indicated that this model of firearm had been used in Nazi Germany during World War II, as well as in several other countries since then. None of those countries included the U.S. The P38 was not a gun widely used or available in the U.S., much less the state of Nevada. It was mainly a collector piece, and collectors didn't usually fire their weapons, even for simple target practice.

This was the last piece of the puzzle he needed. Greg was in danger, and Nick would do everything in his power to keep his soul mate safe.

Logging back out of the computer, Nick slipped out of the layout room and headed back down the hall to the DNA lab. Through the glass walls, Nick could see Greg swaying to the music he had playing quietly as he worked. In the months since Greg started at the lab, he'd become much more at ease around his co-workers. Once in a while he'd flinch or jump if startled, but he was no where near as fearful as he'd been the first weeks he'd been there.

Plastering a smile on his face, hoping Greg wouldn't see right through it, knowing he probably would anyway, Nick knocked on the glass wall and waved when Greg looked up. The happy smile Greg gave him in return made Nick's insides turn to jelly, and a warm heat settle towards his groin. It was like this every time Greg looked at him, talked to him, touched him.

Moving quickly around the corner towards the DNA lab's main door, he tried to erase as much of the tension from his face as he could. Terrifying Greg into a blind panic would not accomplish anything, but that's what would happen if Greg saw how truly scared Nick was, since Nick wasn't one to frighten easily.

"Hey, G!" Nick said, closing the distance between them. Not caring if anyone saw at this point, just wanting to reassure himself that Greg was okay, Nick pulled Greg against him and nuzzled his neck before kissing his pulse point.

Confusion heavy in his voice, Greg said, "Nicky?" In the time they'd been together, Nick had never displayed this much affection towards him at work. That Nick was risking it now told Greg that something was troubling the older man. "What's wrong?"

Pulling back with a sigh, Nick said, "Damn! I knew I wouldn't be able to hide my feelings from you." Greg had gotten to know the older man so well that Nick couldn't falsify his emotional state without him instantly picking up on it.

Meeting Nick's eyes, Greg saw the fear the older man was struggling to control, felt his own heart speed up at the thought of what could cause Nick to be so afraid. There was only one thing that he could think of that would make Nick that scared.

Before Greg could speak, Nick said, "Don't say anything. Not here. Gris thinks I'm sick, so I have to go home. Call me when you get off and I'll come get you. Don't leave the building. Stay inside until I get here. Promise me!"

"I promise," Greg responded, though he would have waited inside for Nick to come get him, even if the older man hadn't made him promise. "I'll call you as soon as my shift's up." Gaze darting to the glass walls, Greg caught sight of Catherine walking towards the DNA lab. "You better go. If you're supposed to be home sick Grissom won't be happy to find out you were here, instead. Catherine might let something unknowingly slip." Reaching up, Greg planted a quick kiss to the corner of Nick's mouth, then pulled away to go back to work.

After one last look back at Greg, Nick slipped out the door and headed back to the parking garage.

Though Greg knew better – after all, he knew exactly how time worked – time seemed to slow down, and his shift seemed to take days instead of hours to pass. He found himself on edge, jumpier than he had been in months. When Hodges, over in Trace, accidentally dropped a glass test tube, the sound of the shattering glass nearly caused Greg to draw his weapon. As it was, he ducked, looking around wild eyed. Hodges had the presence of mind to look sheepishly through the glass walls over at Greg, and mouthed, "Sorry," when he saw that Greg had ducked.

At the end of shift, Greg did exactly as Nick had asked him to. He called Nick and let him know he'd be waiting in the break room, then suited action to words.

The ride to Nick's house was quiet, the tension nearly thick enough to cut with a knife. Nick refused to talk about what was bothering him while they were on the road. The only words uttered during the entire drive were when Nick asked him three or four times if he was armed. The last time Nick asked, Greg finally unclipped the strap and pulled the Glock free of its holster to show the older man that he was indeed packing heat. Nick had finally given him a sheepish half grin, and murmured, "Sorry."

At the house, Nick actually pulled the truck into the garage, instead of leaving it in the driveway, as he usually did. Ushering Greg through the connecting door from the garage, he even took the extra precautionary step of closing and locking that door.

Already on edge, Greg couldn't help the tremble in his voice, as he wrapped his arms around himself and said, "Nicky, you're scaring me."

Pulling Greg into his arms, pressing his cheek against the side of the younger man's head, Nick said, "I know. Shit! I'm sorry. Come in the living room."

"Something happened at the crime scene you were at with Gris, didn't it?" Greg asked, allowing himself to be led into the living room, and pushed down to the couch. He curled his feet up under him, as he watched Nick begin to pace.

Drawing a shaky breath, wishing like hell he had another explanation for those three men who looked so much like Greg, Nick said, "Within the last week, there have been three men killed. They all looked remarkably like you, G." He stopped pacing long enough to lock gazes with Greg. He saw his own fear mirrored in the younger man's eyes.

"It could just be a coincidence, couldn't it?" Greg asked, wrapping his arms around his drawn up knees.

Beginning to pace again, Nick said, "In my experience, there's no such thing as coincidence. They were beaten to a bloody pulp, before being shot in the head. Bobby identified the gun as a Walther P38."

Feeling as though he'd never be warm again, as all the heat seemed to leave his body at once, Greg moaned, "Oh, God! It's him!"

The color draining from Nick's face, he said, "You mean the one who–" he couldn't finish the sentence, but Greg's slight nod told him all he needed to know. "How do you know it's him?"

"Part of the reason I figured out they would never let me go was that he would gloat that when they gave him the order to kill me, he'd," Greg had to stop here to clear his throat before he could go on. "He'd 'fuck me once more for old times sake, then put a bullet in my brain.' His words, not mine," Greg seemed to need to clarify that he was quoting the soldier who'd abused him so badly. "Were they– Do you know if he–" he couldn't bring himself to voice the word.

Nick told Greg the names of the three victims. "Were you given SAE kits for any of them?"

Shaking his head, Greg said, "He figured out they weren't me. That's why they were beaten. He was pissed off that he hadn't found me." Turning pain filled eyes on Nick, he wailed, "Those three men are dead because of me!"

Breaking off his pacing, Nick fell to his knees in front of Greg. He cupped Greg's cheeks in his hands, forced the younger man to meet his gaze again. "No! No! No! Their deaths are _not_ your fault!"

Tears were streaming down Greg's face. "It is my fault, Nicky! I should never have–"

Nick didn't let Greg finish the sentence. He surged forward, claiming Greg's lips with his own, the younger man's mouth opening to his insistent tongue. Greg's tears continued, unabated, as they kissed, adding a flavor of salt to their it.

When they broke apart a moment later, gasping for air, Nick spoke before Greg could say anything. "Fate brought you to this time, to me. If you'd never come to this time, that madman would still be hurting you. And I'd lay two to one odds that you weren't the only one he hurt in his own time. Either way, he'd find someone to hurt, someone to kill. And if he gets anywhere near you, I _will _do whatever I have to do to protect you! I love you!" Taking a breath, Nick went on more calmly, "All of that being said, move in with me. I'd feel better if you were with me, when we're not at work, than having you alone in your apartment."

Not that Greg spent much time at his apartment anymore, but there were still times that he retreated there, telling Nick he needed some time alone. The fact that the younger man wouldn't meet his eyes when he told him he needed the solitude made Nick suspect there was more to it than that, but he had let Greg have his space.

Doing his best to tamp down the guilt he still felt, Greg nodded at Nick. "Okay, Nicky. I'll move in with you on the condition that you let me convert the spare bedroom into a workspace, and you respect my privacy if I'm in there working."

Allowing a relieved smile to play across his features, Nick said, "I can do that for you."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It had been a long double shift for Nick. He had accompanied Grissom out to process the scene of another murder perpetrated by the Nazi looking for Greg – of course, Grissom didn't know this, and Nick was bound and determined that his supervisor never would. The fact that this victim resembled the other three wasn't lost on Grissom. He even clued in to the fact that the four men all looked remarkably like Greg.

_Grissom knelt next to victim number four, a twenty-five year old man named Daniel Weisman. The look of intense concentration on his face told Nick the supervisor was deep in thought, putting puzzle pieces together in his mind, as he often did. Nick could imagine what a few of those pieces were._

_Nick had managed to control his initial fear response this time, keeping it firmly in check so he didn't nearly pass out. He did feel his stomach roil, bile rising in the back of his throat, but managed to tamp it down._

"_Nick," Grissom looked up from his contemplation of the victim's body to Nick, who was across the room, taking pictures of broken pictures, signs of a struggle._

_Snapping another picture, Nick let the camera hang from the strap around his neck and turned to face Grissom. "Yeah, Gris?"_

"_You weren't coming down with the flu last week, were you," it wasn't a question._

"_Ya know, I realized after I'd gotten home that I hadn't eaten anything before shift. It must have been low blood sugar." He prayed that Grissom wouldn't see through his deception._

"_That wasn't it, either, and we both know it. Greg fits the victim profile. You're afraid for him," Grissom had turned back to the corpse, documenting something in its hand with his camera, then set the camera aside and retrieved his tweezers from his kit. Carefully grasping whatever it was that he'd seen, he held the tweezers up for a closer inspection. "Looks like our perp lost a few hairs. I've got some blond strands, follicular tags intact." As he tucked the evidence into a small envelope, he continued as if he hadn't mentioned the hairs, "Brass can have a protection detail assigned to him."_

_Nick knew the last thing Greg would want would be a uniformed officer following him around, not just for the obvious reasons, either. "I'll admit, I'm worried, but I don't think he's in any real danger." Chancing a glance at Grissom, Nick saw disbelief plain on the other man's face. With a sigh, he said, "We moved the last of his stuff into my place yesterday. Two days ago, I had an alarm company come in and install the best unit on the market. That Glock he carries around isn't just for show, either. He knows how to use it."_

"_Okay, Nick. If either of you change your mind, let me know," with that, Grissom turned back to searching for evidence on the body._

_Letting out a small sigh of relief, Nick turned back to taking photos of the damage caused in the struggle._

Once he'd returned to the lab, Nick had found that he and Grissom had been called out to search for clues to a woman's sudden disappearance. He made a quick stop by the DNA lab to let Greg know what was going on and tell him not to wait around after his shift, then left again.

Now he was finally pulling up in front of the house. Letting out a tired sigh, he reached for the garage door opener. Hand poised to push the button, Nick let out a soft curse. As he'd driven past the front of the house towards the garage, something had seemed a bit off, but in his exhausted state it had taken a couple of minutes to fully sink in what was wrong. The front door had been standing wide open. Greg wouldn't have left the front door like that.

Ramming the transmission into park, Nick grabbed his radio from the cup holder it usually sat in. "This is CSI Stokes in need of back up." He rattled off his address. The dispatcher told him back up was en route, five minutes away, and to wait for them before proceeding, but Nick was frantic. By the time back up arrived, Greg could be dead. Almost yelling into the radio, he said, "I'm going in. Get that back up over here!"

Dropping the radio onto the passenger seat, Nick opened his door and slipped out of the truck. As he moved, his hand went to the holster on his belt. He unclipped it and drew the silver and black Glock, taking a two handed grip with his arms extended in front of him so the barrel was pointed towards the ground. Moving as quietly but as quickly as he could, he cautiously approached the open front door.

Heart hammering in his chest, Nick prayed he wasn't too late. He knew that whatever had happened had only transpired within the last fifteen minutes, as he'd called Greg when he'd finally managed to get away from the crime lab to let him know he was on his way home.

Moving stealthily up to the door, Nick planted his back against the wall to one side of it, gaze flitting around the area he could see beyond, then to the door itself. There were no signs of forced entry, and he couldn't see anyone in his limited field of vision into the house. He could hear plenty, though.

A harsh voice was speaking in German. Nick still didn't understand the language, except for a word here or there, but he could guess just from the tone what the man was saying. A quiet whimper was the only response to whatever the Nazi had said. Relief flooded Nick's system. Greg was alive, and as long as Nick moved cautiously, he'd remain that way. The voices were coming from the living room.

Crouching down, he moved into the entryway, the muzzle of his gun following his eyes. No one was in the hallway beyond the door, and he couldn't see anyone through the archway into the living room, but the angle he was at only allowed him to see one corner of the room. That left most of the living room unaccounted for, but he knew they had to be in there. Taking a quiet step forward, he took a quick peek into the room.

Greg, back pressed up against the wall, was struggling against his tormentor's grip. The Nazi had Greg pinned to the wall with his body, his left hand was pounding Greg's right hand against the wall, to make him drop his gun. The man's right arm was pressed across Greg's throat, cutting off his air. His lips were already starting to lose color.

Using the sounds of Greg's hand and the gun hitting the wall as cover, Nick stalked into the room.

Greg's eyes widened at the sight of Nick approaching Emerick, murder in his eyes. Greg knew he was about to pass out. Emerick's arm across his throat was making it extremely difficult to draw in enough air, and black spots were beginning to dance in his vision. His hand was hurting, where it contacted the wall each time Emerick slammed it forward. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to hold on to the Glock. He supposed it didn't really matter, now that Nick was here, though.

He watched Nick press the barrel of his gun into the side of Emerick's head, saw Emerick's ice blue eyes go wide.

Nick's voice was cold as ice, as he growled, "Get your fucking hands off of him!"

The pressure against his windpipe was suddenly gone and Greg drew in a welcomed lung full of air that had never tasted sweeter. It took him a moment to realize that Nick had literally thrown Emerick backwards to the floor, lack of oxygen making him slow on the uptake. The sounds of sirens drifted through the open front door, telling Greg that Nick had already called for assistance.

Gun still pointed at the Nazi soldier – Greg had never told Nick his name, making Nick wonder if the younger man even knew it – Nick risked turning just enough to look over at Greg. "You okay?" he asked, watching as a healthy pink began to flood back into Greg's cheeks and lips.

The Nazi's movement drew Nick's attention back to him instantly. He was reaching for something beneath the waistband of his pants. In Nick's experience, that meant only one thing. Before the soldier even got his hand wrapped around the grip of the gun, Nick fired off two shots, hitting him in the chest and killing him instantly.

Holstering his gun, Nick moved to stand in front of Greg, pulling the younger man into his arms. Adrenaline ebbing away, they sagged against each other, Greg's body wracked by sobs.

Squealing tires outside announced the arrival of back up. Shouting to be sure they heard him, Nick said, "We're in the living room!"

Vartann's voice called back, "Nick?"

"Yeah. Greg and I are fine. Call the coroner, I was forced to shoot an intruder."

A moment later, Vartann, gun drawn, cautiously entered the living room. He eyed the dead man on the floor, then swept the room for other possible threats. "He the only one?"

When Greg nodded against Nick's shoulder, Nick replied to Vartann for him, "Yes."

Vartann followed procedure and checked the rest of the house anyway. As he walked back into the living room, he holstered his gun. He blinked at the familiar, more than friends, way Greg clung to Nick, but didn't say anything. He'd heard the rumors flying around the lab that the two were together, but it didn't bother him. In fact, he tended to be one of the cops who put his foot down if people were gossiping in his presence, and had told several people to leave it alone, no matter what the truth was, because it wasn't their business.

"Nick, Greg, what happened?" Vartann asked, pulling his notebook from his pocket.

Pulling back from Greg enough to look the younger man in the face, Nick laid a hand gently on his cheek. He wiped a tear away with his thumb, noting how blood shot Greg's eyes were. "Can you tell Vartann what happened before I got home?"

Nodding slightly, grateful to be alive and have Nick with him, Greg turned slightly towards Detective Vartann. "Nick called me about twenty minutes ago to tell me he was on his way home. I looked to see what time it was and realized that the mail should be here, so I went out to check it. H-he came up behind me, when I was on m-my way back in. P-pushed me through the door so fast, I almost didn't have a chance to draw my gun. B-by then, he had me against the wall, and my gun was useless. T-tried to fight back, b-but he was too strong for me."

"Did he say anything?" Vartann asked, as he quickly jotted down the details Greg had given him.

When Greg glanced nervously at him, Nick gave him a barely perceptible shake of his head. He hoped Vartann hadn't noticed it.

"No, he didn't say anything," Greg said, sagging back into Nick, as all of his strength seemed to desert him at once.

"Nick, what happened when you came in?"

"It was pretty much what Greg said, the guy had him pinned against the wall, was trying to make him loose his grip on his gun. Had an arm across his throat, cutting off his air supply. He was too preoccupied with Greg to notice me, so I was able to sneak up on him and pull him off of Greg. I was covering him with my own weapon, asked Greg if he was okay, and the guy moved his hand towards his waistband, like he was going for a gun. I shot him." Nick's arms went instinctively around Greg's shoulders, pulling the younger man protectively against him.

"Okay. Grissom and Catherine are on their way. You won't be able to stay here tonight, but you can grab whatever you need from your room." As Vartann spoke, he finished jotting down notes, then bent over the body. He used his pen to push aside the guy's shirt, exposing the waistband of his worn jeans, and a Walther P38. Pulling a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, Vartann worked his hand into one before taking the gun from the dead man's waistband.

As Vartann was clearing the gun, Grissom and Catherine walked in carrying their crime scene kits.

Setting down her kit, Catherine rushed over to Nick and Greg. "Are you guys okay?"

Nick gave Catherine a wane smile. He could feel himself about to lose it, as the weight of almost losing Greg came crashing down on him. All he could do to answer Catherine's question was nod.

Once Catherine had assured herself that both men were fine, she took Nick's gun and secured it, then did the same with Greg's.

Grissom took the secured P38 from Vartann, eyeing it as he spoke, "Once you get a hotel room, give me a call and let me know where you're staying."

Finally finding his voice, Nick managed a choked, "Sure thing, Gris." Doing his best to steer Greg towards the bedroom while keeping the younger man clutched against his side, Nick murmured, "Let's go pack up some stuff. I don't know about you, but I could use a hot shower and a soft bed."

He felt Greg move his head against him, as he nodded, and heard a barely audible, "Okay, Nicky."

When they reached the bedroom, Nick pushed Greg gently down to sit on the bed, then went in the closet and grabbed a duffle bag. Not really paying much attention to the clothes he took, Nick randomly pulled garments from both of their stocks before going back to the bedroom. He stuffed everything from the closet into the bag, then went and grabbed other needed items from the dresser before moving into the bathroom. His last stop was to his night stand, where he pulled out a solid black Glock similar to Greg's. He put it in the duffle bag on top of everything else, then zipped it closed.

By the time they had everything they needed, Greg had composed himself enough to walk on his own.

In the living room, David Phillips was just collecting the dead man's body with the help of his assistants.

~~~CSI~~~

The hotel wasn't the best there were around, but it was cozy, and not break-the-bank expensive. Nick had pulled the Glock from the duffle bag and left it with Greg, while he went in to pay for a room. They would have their department issued side arms back as soon as the investigation was over. While that should only be two or three days, since it would be expedited due to Nick and Greg being law enforcement, Nick didn't want them to be defenseless in the meantime. As per department policy, they were both off for a week, pending the investigation's findings.

Sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, Greg had to fight to stay awake. Emerick may be dead and gone, but that didn't mean other Nazis wouldn't come back in search of him. Especially when Emerick didn't check in. The fact that no one else had come yet just meant that they still hadn't been able to get their calculations close enough.

Nick's tap on the window caused Greg to jerk awake several minutes later. Smiling sheepishly at Nick's concerned look, Greg hit the button to unlock the doors.

"I booked the room for three days," Nick said, as he slipped back into the driver's-side seat of the truck. Bringing the engine roaring to life, Nick drove farther into the hotel's parking lot, until he found their room, then pulled into the space in front of it.

In the room, Nick secured the door.

Greg had kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the bed, too tired to think about a shower, food, or anything else. Agreeing with the younger man whole heartedly, Nick pulled off his shoes and crawled onto the bed to warp himself around Greg and fall asleep.

~~~CSI~~~

Greg woke feeling trapped. Panic rose quickly inside him, and he had to fight down the urge to lash out. Gaining control of himself, he smiled as he realized why he felt trapped, and that it was nothing bad at all.

Sometime in the night, Nick had draped one of his powerful thighs across Greg's legs. A strong arm held Greg tightly against Nick, back to chest. Putting his hand over top of Nick's, he interlaced their fingers, gently squeezing. He was going to miss this. For the last few months, he'd been working on a way to stop the Nazis from using the time bracelets and the home base unit. He planned to tell Nick what he had to do, but not right now. Right now, he wanted to enjoy being with his soul mate, because there was a very good chance he wouldn't survive what he had to do.

Releasing Nick's hand, Greg squirmed to his other side, so he was facing Nick. Needing to feel as much of Nick as he could, he pushed his hands up under Nick's T-shirt, while he softly kissed Nick's chin. Trailing kisses from Nick's chin up his jaw, Greg let his hands wander over Nick's stomach and up his chest.

The feeling of soft lips on his stubbled chin and jaw, and lightly calloused hands brushing over his stomach and chest brought Nick awake. Rolling to his back, he tilted his head farther back, giving Greg better access to his throat. Moaning when Greg nuzzled against him.

Drawing in a deep breath, Greg tried to lock the scent of Nick's skin away in his brain, wanting never to forget it. The smells of skin, sweat, and arousal caused his own half hard cock to swell further, becoming fully hard.

Nick's hand went to the back of Greg's neck, pulling him up so he could claim the younger man's lips in a slow, tender kiss.

When they broke apart a moment later, Nick met Greg's gaze and felt his heart shatter. The look of pain and loss in Greg's eyes told Nick that something was going to happen that would tear his world apart. He wanted to demand what Greg was planning to do, but found himself unable to when Greg whimpered, "Make love to me, Nicky!"

Nick had no choice. He could not deny anything Greg asked him for, ever.

Moving his hand up from Greg's neck to his hair, Nick tangled his fingers in it, and pulled Greg back in for another kiss. His other hand trailed to the hem of Greg's T-shirt, pushing underneath it to brush across his stomach, before moving around to the small of Greg's back.

Nick's hand at the small of his back, tugging gently at him, Greg allowed himself to be maneuvered so he was straddling Nick's thighs. Goose bumps raised along the skin Nick's hand was in contact with, as it pushed down the back of Greg's jeans. As Nick's fingers brushed across his hole, Greg pulled back from the kiss, his back arching.

When Greg pulled back, Nick lost his grip on Greg's hair, so instead allowed his hand to trail down the younger man's arm to his hand, interlacing their fingers together.

Pulling himself into a sitting position, Greg still straddling his lap, Nick brushed his fingers across Greg's entrance once more before removing his hand from Greg's pants. Yanking Greg's T-shirt off over his head, Nick leaned in to tease one of Greg's dusky nipples with his tongue and teeth, bringing it to a taut peak.

Gently freeing his hand from Nick's, Greg reached for Nick's shirt, pulling it over the older man's head, then tangling both hands in Nick's hair. Nick's mouth only left his chest long enough for his T-shirt to be removed, then Nick's lips were back on his skin, nipping lightly with his teeth.

Taking a fistful of Nick's hair, Greg gently pulled his head back, gazed down into the older man's eyes, pouring all of his love for the other man into the look, before bending down to brush his lips across Nick's. His tongue slid against Nick's lips, begging entrance that was instantly granted.

Nick's hands, previously resting on Greg's hips, went to the front of Greg's jeans. While he fumbled one handed at Greg's fly, Nick brushed the fingers of his other hand across the bulge Greg's cock had created.

The sudden loss of Greg's weight, as the other man bounded off the bed, made Nick whimper. The younger man scampered across the room to their bag, where he rummaged around for the lube he knew he'd seen Nick stuff in there earlier. As he walked back to the bed, he shimmied out of his jeans and underwear. The hunger in Nick's eyes made Greg's cock twitch in response, even as he felt a small part of himself die inside at the thought of never having this again.

Before Greg could reach the bed, Nick stood and stripped out of his own jeans and briefs. Crawling back into the bed, he knelt in the center, ass resting on his heels, cock curving up to rest against his stomach.

Handing Nick the lube, Greg scrambled back up on the bed, kneeling so he was facing Nick.

Wrapping his arms around Greg – lube still clutched in one hand – Nick pulled the younger man against him. As their erections rubbed together, the first words to be spoken in what seemed like hours spilled from both of their lips, as Greg sighed, "Nicky!" and Nick gasped, "G! Fuck!"

Leaning into Nick's embrace, Greg nuzzled the older man's neck again, drawing another deep breath before murmuring, "I love you, so much, Nicky!" He kissed his way back up to Nick's mouth, where they both became lost in another searing kiss.

As Nick's tongue probed Greg's mouth, Nick's slicked up fingers probed at Greg's tight opening. Feeling Greg's muscles relax, Nick kissed his way from Greg's jaw to his ear, rasping in a voice so husky it was nearly unrecognizable as his own, "Turn around, G."

While Greg moved to comply, Nick drizzled lube over his cock, hissing at the cool liquid hitting his fiery skin. A moment later, he found himself gasping at the sight of Greg before him. The younger man was looking over his shoulder at Nick. He was on his knees, which were spread as far apart as possible on the bed.

Scooting up behind Greg, Nick pressed his chest to Greg's back, then helped Greg settle onto his cock. When he was sheathed to the hilt inside of Greg's body, he wrapped his arms around the younger man, holding him close, as their bodies trembled with need.

"Nicky!" Greg sighed again, laying his head back on Nick's shoulder.

Nick could feel the pounding of Greg's heart, where he had his right hand splayed across the other man's chest. Turning his head into the side of Greg's neck, taking a deep breath of Greg's heady scent, Nick murmured, "Love you, G! Wish we could stay like this forever." Biting gently at Greg's neck, Nick laved over the small hurt with his tongue. Right now, marking the younger man seemed to be the only way Nick could think of to leave Greg a lasting reminder of what they had. Deep down inside, he had the worst feeling he knew what Greg was planning to do. He just prayed he was wrong, or that he could talk Greg out of it.

"Please!" Greg's plea brought Nick back into the moment. "Move! Bitte!"

Settling one hand on Greg's hip, the other wrapping around Greg's engorged cock, Nick set a gentle rhythm. While Greg had discovered that he did occasionally like their sex to get a little rough, they both loved this slow, easy pace. It was just enough to draw them both inexorably closer to completion, but was slow enough to drag that moment out as long as possible.

Twisting his head awkwardly to the side, Greg pulled Nick into an awkward and sloppy kiss, the fingers of his right hand trailing over Nick's stubbled chin as their lips and tongues met.

The feel of Greg's silky channel around his painfully hard cock, along with the steady rocking of his hips, thrusting him in and out of that tight heat, pushed Nick closer and closer to the edge. He could feel his balls drawing up tightly to his body, the tingling sensation of impending orgasm settling in his spine and stomach. He could sense that Greg was close as well, as the younger man pushed himself as close to Nick as he could get without physically getting under his skin.

"Come with me, Greg," he murmured in the younger man's ear, and that was all it took. Greg's channel convulsed around him, as Greg's seed covered his hand. Nick felt his cock pulse, as he shot semen deep inside Greg's body.

Sagging against Nick's chest in the aftermath of their simultaneous orgasms, Greg felt sated. He could still feel Nick's flagging cock inside of him, and he never wanted to lose the feeling, but knew that with all things, even this couldn't last forever. Pulling carefully off of Nick, he stood and moved toward the bathroom to get a warm wet cloth. He could feel Nick's semen dribbling out of his hole, but found nothing disgusting or revolting about it, as he had always felt after being raped by Emerick. This had shocked and surprised him, the first time he and Nick had made love without a condom.

When he returned to the bed, Nick had settled back against the headboard. He watched Greg with a sad knowing look on his face that tore another piece of Greg's heart out. He refused to meet Nick's eye, as he helped the older man clean up.

Before he could retreat to the bathroom with the cloth, Nick grabbed his arm, pulling him back to the bed and into his arms. "Why did that feel like the last time we're ever going to make love? What are you planning to do?"


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The sad sigh and the way Greg clung to him made Nick want to cry. "I have to do it, Nicky. If I don't–"

"You're planning to go back, aren't you," Nick quietly demanded, forcing Greg to meet his gaze with a finger under his chin.

"If I don't, they'll just keep sending soldiers after me. Other innocent people will be killed. _You _could be killed." Tears shimmered in Greg's eyes, threatening to fall.

"So, what, you're going to sacrifice yourself?" Anger blazed in Nick's eyes. Not all of it was directed at the Nazis, some was actually directed at Greg. For all of the younger man's genius, he could be downright stupid sometimes! "If they don't outright kill you when you get back, they'll force you to continue working on that project, then kill you! I won't let you do it, Greg!"

Pulling away from Nick, Greg stood and walked several paces away from him. Wrapping his arms around himself, Greg stood with his naked back to Nick, nearly as comfortable in his own skin now as Nick was.

Nick let Greg go, watching as every muscle in Greg's body tensed. Even as mad as he was at the thought of what Greg was going to do, Nick still felt his body react to the sleekly build man just feet away from him. He had to strain to hear what Greg said next.

"I have to go back and destroy everything. The bracelets, the home base unit–" he trailed off again.

"You said they could rebuild them, though," frustration weighed heavily in Nick's voice.

"They can't if they're dead," Greg said, shocking Nick with the venom in his voice.

Nick sat in stunned silence. This was a side of Greg he'd never seen before, and hoped to never see again. The unrestrained fury in the younger man was so completely out of character for him that it actually scared Nick.

Standing, Nick moved up behind Greg, reaching out a hesitant hand to touch the younger man's shoulder. "You're not a cold blooded killer, Greg," he murmured softly.

Closing his eyes, Greg leaned back into the touch, sighed when Nick pressed his whole body against his back and wrapped his hands around Greg's waist. "I don't have any other choice, Nicky. If they aren't stopped, they'll just keep coming after me. They could even find a way to take something back from the future that could change the outcome of the war."

"If you destroy everything, you won't be able to come back," Nick spoke the words quietly, feeling them destroy a little more of his soul.

"Not using the Nazi equipment, no," Greg said, squaring his shoulders and slowly turning to face Nick. He wrapped his arms around Nick's waist, tilting his head back to regard the older man solemnly.

The words slowly sank into Nick's brain, comprehension following a moment later. "I-is that what you've been working on in the spare room?"

Giving a small nod, Greg said, "I was able to create a home base unit using a laptop computer and some other readily available components. I'm nearly done assembling a bracelet slaved to it. I'll use my original bracelet to go back, do what I have to do, then activate the new bracelet to come back home. If all goes according to plan, the new unit will bring me back here within moments of me having left, no matter how long I'm in the past. Then I'll destroy the new unit."

"You've planned out how to get there and how to get back, how about while you're there? How are you going to–" Nick couldn't finish the sentence, but he knew Greg would understand what he was trying to ask. "Do you even know when you'll be going back to? How does going back work?"

"I need to get my hands on a couple of bricks of Semtex, and a timed detonator. That should be sufficient to destroy the main lab, where the home base unit is. I-I'll take my gun, too." The last questions were the most difficult to answer, as he wasn't sure of that himself. "I-I'm not really sure when I'll be going back to. My best guess is that I'll be going back just after Emerick came forward. If I went back to before he left, it could cause a paradox. As for when he left, it could be days after I originally left, maybe even weeks or months. I guess it depends on how long it took them to fix the bracelets."

"What if not all of the scientists are there at the time? What if there're more guards? I don't want to lose you, Greg!"

"Damn it, Nick! I have to do this!" Greg spat out at Nick, causing Nick to take an involuntary step backwards. Just as quickly, the anger was gone. "Emerick was the only guard they allowed into the lab. I guess there are guards that patrol outside, but it's a big building, so I really don't know. They never allowed me outside. All of the scientists are always there."

A thought occurred to Nick, "What about Emerick's bracelet? It's probably in evidence," he trailed off, not quite sure what to say.

"Emerick wouldn't have been wearing it. He would have left it wherever he's been staying. Once the home base unit is destroyed, it'll cease to function."

Resigning himself, Nick said, "When?"

"Once we can get back into the house, it's going to take me a couple of more days to finish up the bracelet. Plus, I need that Semtex and detonator. As soon as all of that is done, I'll go."

Knowing it could cost him his job, if anyone ever found out, but not really caring in the grand scheme of things, Nick said, "I'll get you the Semtex and detonator."

~~~CSI~~~

Sitting back from his workbench, Greg sighed. The last of the intricate circuits were finished, the bracelet was done. He'd spent the time since they'd been able to come back in the house working on the device that would hopefully allow him to return to 1999, taking very little time to eat or sleep.

Nick had gotten two bricks of Semtex and a timer style detonator the day before, telling him not to ask how he'd gotten it. There was nothing keeping him from going right now. Except the man pacing in the next room.

Taking a shaky breath, he gathered everything up. Holstered Glock on his hip, spare ammunition clips in his front jeans pocket. A brick of Semtex in either jacket pocket, the detonator in the inside pocket. The bracelet he'd be using for the trip back already on his wrist, the other tucked safely away in the pocket not occupied by reserve Glock clips.

When Greg appeared in the hallway, Nick knew this was it. The leather jacket Greg wore hung heavily on him because of the Semtex in the pockets. Emotion hung heavily on the younger man's face. Fear, a fierce determination, loss, but most of all, love.

Closing the distance between them, Nick wrapped a hand around the back of Greg's neck, pulling him in for a searing kiss before leaning his forehead against Greg's. He'd given up on trying to talk Greg out of doing this, so all he was left with was praying that the younger man would survive and return to him. Tears gathered in his eyes, and he fought to keep them from falling.

A single tear slipped free from Greg's eyes, trailing down his cheek until Nick brushed it away with his thumb. "I love you! Please, come back to me!"

Pressing one last kiss to Nick's lips, Greg pulled back, murmuring, "I love you, too! I'll do my best! If I'm successful, I should be back here within the hour. Any more than that, and–" he didn't finish the sentence.

Stepping back, Greg pulled the Glock from its holster, flicked off the safety and pulled back on the slide to cock the gun. Pulling up the right sleeve of his jacket enough to access the bracelet, Greg pressed a button on it and watched the living room of his home fade away.

Nick hadn't really truly believed until this moment. This fact occurred to him as he watched Greg fade away after activating the bracelet. Now that he'd seen firsthand, the knowledge rocked him to his core, and he sank to his knees, unable to hold himself upright any longer.

His eyes were drawn inexorably to the clock. Unable to look away, he watched the minutes slowly pass. Five minutes, then ten. When fifteen minutes past and Greg hadn't returned, Nick decided he had to do something. The younger man had said it could be up to an hour before he returned. If he returned.

Pulling himself unsteadily to his feet, he moved down the hallway to Greg's workshop. The room was mostly neat and tidy. The workbench along the wall showing the only signs of use. Tools and parts were scattered haphazardly over the surface. The home base unit, a laptop with incomprehensible parts Frankensteined to it, sat open and active on one end of the workbench. Being Greg's only means home, Nick knew better than to touch it.

A different laptop – deactivated – sat on the other end of the workbench, next to an HP printer. There were two papers in the printer. The top one looked like a letter. The words, "My beloved Nicky," along the top had Nick snatching the pages from the printer.

His heart fell as he read:

_My beloved Nicky,_

_I know your curiosity forced you to come into my workshop after I left, that's why I've left this letter in here for you to find. My own curiosity got the better of me, and I did some research. The article with this letter tells me my mission is successful. However, as you will see, it is at a great price. I'm afraid I won't be coming back to you. I am deeply sorry!_

_If I have not returned within an hour of my departure, please shut down the home base unit and destroy it._

_Yours Always and Forever,_

_Greg_

Hands trembling, Nick pulled the second paper from beneath the letter. He skimmed through it, reading about the explosion that destroyed a research and development lab belonging to the Third Reich. It killed all but one of the scientists, who escaped with minor injuries. He reported that the explosion had been caused by one Greg Sandler, who had been trying to sabotage the Fuhrer's attempts to create clean energy. According to the sole survivor, Greg had been killed in the explosion.

Letting out a howl of despair, Nick folded in on himself, collapsing to the floor, tears blinding him.

Outside, in a cloudless sky, lightning flashed over the house, followed almost instantly by a low rumble of thunder that was more felt than heard.


	10. Epilogue

A/N: Well, I'm not too sure how happy I am with this chapter, but here it is. This story has been a bit of a struggle for me at times, but it's done now. I don't know what is next, so just bear with me. I do have an idea in mind, but I need to figure out the whole story line before I get too engrossed in it. In the meantime, as new episodes air, there will always be one shots. :)

Epilogue

It was done. Greg had succeeded, and now he was back home. The first thing Greg noticed was the high keening wail. Glancing quickly at the clock, as he rushed towards his workshop, he saw that he'd been gone about half an hour. He'd been right about Nick going into the workshop, then.

Skidding through the door to what once had been Nick's guest room, but had been transformed into Greg's workshop, Greg found Nick huddled on the floor, clutching his chest as though his heart had been ripped from it. Falling to his knees, Greg pulled Nick to him, shouting to be heard over Nick's screams, "Nicky! I'm here! It's okay!"

Quiet descended, then, "Greg?" Nick's voice was hoarse from screaming, and he couldn't seem to make his hands move away from his chest, as though he had to literally hold his heart inside his chest cavity. The pain of his heart breaking had been a near physical thing. He'd even thought he was having a heart attack, at first. Now he was hearing that sweet voice he'd thought he'd never hear again. "G?"

"Yeah, Nicky. It's me!"

Finally able to move, Nick sat up and leaned his forehead against Greg's, breathing deeply of the younger man's scent. Swallowing several times to try to work up saliva to coat his scorched throat, Nick said, "How?"

"The scientist who survived was a friend of mine in college, Anton Weber. When he realized what I meant to do, he helped me. He'd been protesting about the things happening in the camps, and about how I was being treated. He told me the S.S. took his family away one night. His wife was pregnant, and they had a little girl."

Shuddering, Greg pulled back from Nick to meet his eyes, "Anton told me that they promised to bring them back if he stopped causing trouble, but he knew they were already dead."

Standing, Greg helped Nick to his feet before walking over to the home base unit on the workbench. "It's over!" Taking hold of some of the wires trailing into the bottom of the laptop, he yanked, watching in satisfaction as the laptop sparked and died. "I'm going to take it out to the backyard tomorrow and smash it with a sledge hammer!" Then he pulled off the bracelet. Holding it so it stood on the workbench, he picked up a hammer and smashed the section with the most circuitry. It didn't spark as much as the laptop, but it was still enough to be satisfying.

~~~CSI~~~

The years past and Greg pushed his memories of Nazi Germany into a small corner of his mind and locked them away. That time had never been his home. The present he was in now was where he was meant to be. The people he was surrounded by had become his family. None of the tragedies he faced in this time even compared to what he'd already lived through. He and Nick now only shared dreams when they weren't able to sleep together, and those dreams were always of light and love. Time and again, he was reminded that the past was truly in the past and the future is what you make of it.


End file.
